


Back Roads and Ranch Hands

by birdsofmalcontent



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 4k words of mutual pining, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mutual Pining, No Angst, No Smut, Oneshot, Ranch hand, Real names used, Snapmap's last name is made up tho, They barely hate each other, background dnf, farm au, farmer's son, how is this so long, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsofmalcontent/pseuds/birdsofmalcontent
Summary: "Ain't." Nick can tell his accent is heavier since he's sleepy and drunk. "I ain't hate you, Karl Jacobs."***********Nick is a ranch hand on the Jacobs' farm. He hates the farmer's son, Karl, until he doesn't.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Luke | Punz & Sapnap
Comments: 23
Kudos: 404





	Back Roads and Ranch Hands

"You know, I've never met a real cowboy before."

Nick grunts, hoisting a third hay bale into the bed of the pickup. "I hardly count as a cowboy."

"Well, you round up our cows and hoist bales and win shiny belt buckles in rodeos for roping calves, and you're the best horse rider I've ever seen, so I think you are a cowboy." Karl is leaned against the truck, somehow unaffected by the bits of hay floating through the air. 

"Cowboys," Nick pauses as he grabs the fourth bale with the bale hooks, "are romanticized pieces of a 'better time' as my dad used to say, so I don't think I count. You say cowboys, you mean being out on the range, eating cans of beans for every meal, and defeating the cattle thieves. Besides, Mr. Jacobs is closer to being a cowboy than I am."

"My father hasn't worked a day in his life for this ranch," in which the word 'ranch' can barely describe the whole property and everything it houses, "which is why he hires boys like you so he doesn't have to lift a finger. It's a remarkable system, though very corrupt."

Nick didn't expect to hear such harsh words come from the boss's son, but he's not surprised. He's only spoken to Mr. Jacobs once, and frankly, Nick is terrified of him. If he had the choice, he would be on the next train to Houston, but life doesn't work like that, so he's stuck here, talking to a stuck-up, entitled rich boy who will coast through life just like all his family before him. 

He tries not to be bitter, really he does, but the hay is getting in his nose and it's sweltering hot, even in the shade of the Hay Shed. A drop of sweat slides its way down the back of his neck and he has the urge to wipe it off and flick it at the boy in front of him. 

"You know," Nick says as the sixth bail thunks down onto the truck bed, "you could help me."

"Nope, sorry, not my job. You seem to be doing just fine, but if the work is too hard for you, I can always talk to my dad and he could fire you..."

Nick grits his teeth but says nothing, hoping the silence and the grimace on his face will be enough to drive Karl away and make him run back to the sweet, sweet air conditioning of the house. 

It does. 

****************

"I don't like him," Nick growls during dinner that evening. 

"You say that about everyone new," Clay replies, grabbing the basket of cornbread and passing it to Nick, who takes a piece and savagely bites into it, letting crumbs cascade down his front. "You said it about me, you said it about Luke, and now you're saying it about Karl."

"He's entitled, Clay."

"Some people are, some people aren't. Maybe you can just appreciate the fact that we get the emotional payout when we EARN our wages rather than mooching off the family money." Clay takes a long drink from his glass of iced tea, then sets it down on the table and looks pointedly at Nick. "Besides, you need to keep this job."

"I know, I know." Being a ranch hand at the Jacobs Ranch pays well, much better than any jobs Nick's had before, and he can't afford to lose it because of a petty grudge. "Just don't like him, that's all."

"I'm sure you'll warm up to him eventually." Clay gives him a smile. "And if you don't, you aren't obligated to interact with him much." 

"Hey, all," Luke says, finally joining them at the table. He smells like the dusty earth of the potato fields. "What's happening?"

"Nick," Clay takes a bite of his chicken, "hates the boss's son."

"You're supposed to be fixated on the farmer's daughter, dumbass, not the farmer's son." Luke rolls his eyes. 

"June's got a fiance, dude."

"I know that, but still. All the songs say it, man. 'I'm in love with the farmer's daughter', 'I married the farmer's daughter', all that."

Nick can smell the alcohol in Luke's cup from across the table. "I don't care about the farmer's daughter. I care about the farmer's son, and he's a dick."

"You'll come around, man," Clay says with a smile.

Maybe he will, but he hates Karl right now.

*******************

"Do you want a glass of iced tea?" Karl saunters into the barn where Nick is working on soldering one of the old radios back together. He's carrying said glass. 

"I'm busy," Nick growls, putting the soldering iron down on its stand. "And this is delicate work."

"You're probably getting dehydrated. It's hot out here and it's been hours since breakfast."

"I'm fine."

"Father gets annoyed if one of the hands isn't taking care of themself."

"I'm busy, man, just- leave it there, on the table." Nick brandishes his glove at the corner of the workbench and Karl gently sets the glass down. 

"Sorry to have bothered you, then," Karl snaps. "And don't call me 'man'. 'Sir' is just fine."

"Alrighty, 'sir', sorry for inconveniencing you."

Karl frowns. Nick looks up for a moment and their eyes meet for a split second before tearing apart. 

Nick's heart is beating too fast for his liking. He hates Karl's eyes; they're sharp and blue, just like Nick's father's were. 

He doesn't like them, doesn't like them one bit. 

"Are you finished, sir? I'm busy earning my living." Nick picks up the soldering iron again and tries to focus back on the radio. 

Karl's mouth opens like he's going to say something, but he doesn't bite back, just turns on his heel and walks back out of the barn. 

Nick watches him go, follows the movements of his steps with his eyes before dropping them back to the radio in front of him. 

At least the iced tea tastes good. 

*******************

Throwing shots of whiskey back, one after the other, is a good way to end the week in Nick's opinion. 

Clay wandered off an hour ago after he was making eyes at one of the waiters. Nick hopes he doesn't do anything too stupid but is happy Clay's hopefully getting some action tonight. 

Eventually, Nick orders a Tequila Sunrise to nurse as he scans the bar, looking for something to entertain himself. He recognizes a few of the patrons, either from previous weekends at the bar or from around town. 

He particularly recognizes a face across the room. 

Karl is surrounded by people, presumably his friends, and there's a voice deep in Nick's inebriated mind that wishes he could join them, maybe sit close to Karl and talk as friends rather than... whatever their dynamic is. 

Friends rather than the boss's son and the ranch hand. 

Nick obviously doesn't act on it. He still doesn't like Karl, no matter what his thoughts are telling him. Besides, it's obvious that Karl doesn't really like him either. 

At a glance of his watch, Nick realizes it's nearly 11:00 and he'll have to be up early to gather the eggs from the chicken coops. He gets a water to sober himself up before he has to walk home, then thanks the pretty bartender and stumbles out the front door. 

"Nick!" A voice calls from behind him. 

He turns to see Karl coming out the door of the bar. Unlike Nick's dress of dusty jeans, work boots, and an old Carhart jacket over his red plaid shirt, Karl wears a clean black sweatshirt and fresh jeans. His tennis shoes are almost comically clean. 

"What are you doing out here?" Nick asks, words slurring more than he wants them to. 

"Are you going to walk back to the ranch?" Karl looks genuinely concerned and Nick hates it. 

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" 

"You shouldn't walk alone out here."

"Just because you can't take care of yourself doesn't mean I can't either!" Nick's stronger than Karl, much broader, more able to take care of himself. 

"I just don't think you should be alone when you're drunk." Karl puts a gentle hand on Nick's shoulder and they meet each other's gaze, Nick's eyes widening in surprise at the touch. "I wouldn't forgive myself if you got hurt."

"Why do you care about me?" Nick asks, pulling back from Karl's touch. 

"I don't," Karl tries to protest, but there's something behind his eyes that tells Nick he's lying. "I just know it's difficult to find good help around here."

"'Good help'? Is that all I am?" Nick doesn't know why he's offended by the wording. 

"Will you please just get in my car and let me drive you back to the ranch?"

At the sight of Karl's bottom lip twitching, something in Nick changes and he decides he doesn't want Karl to be upset on his behalf. 

He shouldn't cause the man stress. That's not his place, not his job. 

Karl's car is a baby blue Mustang, one that Nick has only been able to admire from afar up to this point. It's in pristine condition, as clean as Karl's pretentious white shoes and as old as the ranch itself, and Nick is fascinated by it. 

He's a bit of a car person. Sue him. 

The cream-colored bench seat makes Nick worry that he'll accidentally slide into Karl on a particularly sharp turn, so he hugs the door and braces his legs every time the car leans, no matter how small the action is. They aren't even driving fast, just meandering down quiet Main Street in the direction of the ranch. 

"This isn't going to be a weekly thing," Karl says as they pass the edge of the store line and begin gaining speed on the highway again. "Going to the bar and getting flat drunk shouldn't be either."

"Your fault I was there," Nick grumbles. 

"My fault?"

"Mhm. I don't like you very much."

Karl frowns and Nick sees some kind of emotion flash across his face for a second before his features fall back to neutrality. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"'s 'cause you're kinda pretentious. Don't even have to work for anything in life, just get to bring people iced tea and wait till you're old enough to buy your own farm where you don't have to do anything there either."

"You don't know me very well, Nick."

"Don't I? Come on, you've had people working for you since you were in diapers, you'll buy a farm or ranch just like your daddy, and you'll marry some childhood sweetheart Southern Belle lady and drink iced tea while your adorable little kids frolic amongst the clovers and calves."

"You sound just like my mother," Karl scoffs, eyes glued to the road. The car headlights momentarily light up the eyes of a small herd of deer at the side of the road. Nick stares back at the deer as they pass. 

"What am I getting wrong here? Please, humor me, Mr. Jacobs."

"Don't call me that." Karl sighs. "I hate being on the ranch. I'm getting into college as soon as I can, gonna study philanthropy and helping people. Father wants me to marry one of my old friends, Magnolia, but I don't like her at all like that. She's a nice girl, just- she's a good Christian lady and deserves a farmer boy rather than me."

"Maybe she'd like Luke."

"Luke?"

"Ranch hand?"

"Right. I'm bad with names."

"You aren't bad with my name."

There's a voice in Nick's mind, one that sings in a voice dripping with sin and alcohol, that wants his full name, for Nicholas Hayes Lawson to fall out of Karl's lips like the prettiest song Nick's ever heard. 

He doesn't bother to silence it, but he doesn't act on impulse. 

Karl audibly swallows, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. "I've talked to you more."

"If that's what you want to say." Nick cracks the window open a little, breathing in the cool summer air. It smells familiar, like cows and hay and last year's rotting leaves. "You know, maybe you ain't so bad."

"'Ain't'?"

"Ain't." Nick can tell his accent is heavier since he's sleepy and drunk. "I ain't hate you, Karl Jacobs."

"That's terrible grammar, Nick."

"I don't care. I ain't hate you."

"Well, I ain't hate you, either," Karl chuckles, a genuine smile on his face, and Nick thinks he can get used to that. 

Karl drops him off in front of the Worker House, which is a farmhouse with way more bedrooms than necessary. Nick gives him a tip of his imaginary hat and a warm smile. 

"Sleep good," Karl says with a kind grin. 

"Will do, sir."

"'Karl' is fine."

Nick pauses, surprised by the admission? or whatever that is. "Alright. Will do, Karl."

Karl says nothing more, just watches as Nick shuts the Mustang door and steps into the house. 

Nick feels better than he thought he would at the end of the night. 

He ain't hate Karl Jacobs. 

Huh. 

*****************

"I brought you some iced tea," Karl says. 

They're back in the barn, but this time Nick is pounding a horseshoe back into the correct shape. Sparks fly off the metal every time the hammer comes in contact. 

"Thanks." Nick puts the hammer down and rolls his neck, eliciting two comforting cracks. 

"It's no problem! Besides, I get to talk to you, so that's definitely a plus." Karl grins and looks down at his feet. 

"Definitely a plus." Nick blushes (since when does he blush?), noting the gentle sunshine coming through the dusty window and landing atop Karl's hair. 

Karl brought himself a glass of tea as well, and he leans against the workbench. Glad for a break, Nick leans over the bench to grab his own tea, then leans his elbows against the smooth wood and takes a refreshing sip of the lemon drink. 

They talk for a while, mostly about the goings-on of the farm. How Clay has been worried about coyotes getting the chickens, how the branding of the calves will go in a week, how June and Karl's horses are getting along well in their new pasture. 

Karl talks a little about his plans to move to the city in the spring, and Nick finds a lump in his throat forming at the news, knowing he'll be stuck at the farm, doing back-breaking work so he can scrape up enough wages to buy a house and become a mechanic. 

He urges the lump away. He shouldn't be this upset about Karl moving; they're friends, nothing else, with their own lives and their own decisions. 

Nick wishes he could talk to Karl forever, but eventually, he has to get back to fixing the horseshoe. Karl gives him a warm smile, kind enough that Nick's heart warms. 

Friends. 

*************

It's a full day of relaxation and Nick cannot for the life of him figure out what to do with himself for the afternoon. 

He's decided to lay down under one of the larger willow trees on the property, boots stripped off and laying a healthy distance away from him. The spot is far off from all the buildings and pastures and all, though he can still see everything going on. It's peaceful, the only sounds in the air the buzzing of the cicadas and the distant mooing from the cow pastures. 

"Hey." Karl's voice cuts through the peaceful air and makes Nick open his eyes. 

"Hey." Nick pushes himself up on his elbows. Karl's got on a pale pink button-up and light blue jeans on, color palette so different than the rest of the clothes on the ranch. The blue and pink suit Karl well, though, the colors bringing out the pretty gray-blue of his eyes. 

Pretty. 

Nick's not afraid to admit that right now. 

"Could I lay with you?"

"Sure."

Karl lays on his stomach, far enough away to make them comfortable but close enough that Nick could grab his hand if he wanted to. 

He does want to. 

How the hell did they move from 'I hate you' to 'I want to hold your hand'? 

Maybe at the point in Karl's car two weeks ago when Nick realized he didn't actually need to hate Karl to be around him. 

Because Karl isn't a bad guy. He's not pretentious, he's just a kid going through life in a different scenario than Nick is. 

They aren't all that different. 

Under the willow tree, they're just two kids laying together, taking a breath from life to lay next to each other in the summer heat. 

They don't speak. Karl plays with the grass under his head, picking little clovers from the grass and arranging them in a gentle pile, and Nick alternates between watching him and closing his eyes to soak up the sun. 

It's peaceful. 

*************

"So..." Clay leans against the doorframe to Nick's room. 

"So?"

"Have you made sweet love to the farmer's son yet?"

"Clay!" Nick groans, crossing the room in two strides and punching his friend in the arm. "Shut up!"

"I'll take that as a 'no', then."

"Did I hear that Nick still hasn't kissed Karl?" Luke saunters into the room and hits Nick upside the head. 

"You did!" Clay wheezes. 

"Dude, you obviously like him. Even if you two don't have that sweet little happy ending with a giant farm and too many kids, you'll at least get a couple of good screws in."

Nick furrows his eyebrows. That isn't what he wants from Karl at all; he wants to hang out with Karl, lay under the willow tree and sing songs on quiet back roads, and sure, kisses would be nice, but that doesn't really encapsulate what he likes about Karl. 

He wants to hold hands with Karl and throw back shots and ride the trails on horseback and zoom along in Karl's Mustang. He wants to sing old love songs to Karl, dance in their cowboy boots, maybe see the city someday, and just... just...

Nick wants to love Karl. 

"Get out of here, assholes," Nick says, shoving Luke and Clay out the door. "Go talk about 'George' or whatever the hell that waiter's name is. I'm sure Clay is absolutely smitten." He closes the door behind him, leaving his two friends outside. 

Maybe Nick just loves certain aspects of Karl right now, like Karl's singing voice and his giggle and his drive and his smile (and his car but that's not the point). Maybe he's on his way to loving Karl. 

Maybe he already does. 

*****************

"You said it was down this road?" Nick asks, taking yet another left turn onto an even bumpier dirt road. His truck takes the rocks and potholes well, but that doesn't mean his teeth haven't clacked together yet. 

"I did. Father said that in his directions." Karl is stretched out in the passenger seat, denim jacket slipping off one shoulder. 

"Whiskey Lullaby" starts playing over the radio and Karl quickly switches the station to something Nick doesn't recognize. 

"Why'd you change it?" Nick asks, scanning the fields around them for any semblance of the hypothetical 'old shed' they're looking for. "That's a good song."

"It's a sad song, and I don't like sad songs."

"I bet you like Taylor Swift."

"And is there anything wrong with that?"

As if the universe is paying attention, "Our Song" begins on the radio and Karl giggles. 

"Look, here's a happy song!" 

They both know all the words, though Nick still mumbles it under his breath like he doesn't. 

He watches Karl though, who puts his all into it, dancing and bobbing his head as he sings. It's a beautiful sight, and Nick finds himself getting lost in the tune and giving in. 

It's too catchy not to. 

As the song ends, another starts ("Blown Away" by Carrie Underwood) and Nick finally spots the old shed, nestled amongst a clump of junipers. 

Karl's out as soon as Nick has parked the truck on the edge of the trees, just off the dirt road. He seems excited to only being a shed with some hypothetical tools in it (that's why they're here: picking up a long chain that Clay needs to fix up the tractor somehow), but he's not complaining. The grin on the other man's face is definitely worth putting up with his eagerness and energy. 

"I like you in that hat," Karl comments as Nick joins him on the ground. 

"Do you?" Nick thinks it's nothing special, just an ancient black Stetson that belonged to his grandfather. The braided letter band has been replaced more times than he can count, but sure, it's a nice hat. It keeps his head covered, which is technically the point. 

"I do." Karl reaches out gently, tucking a stray lock of black behind Nick's ear. Nick blushes at the feeling of Karl's fingers against his cheek, but just like that, the action is finished. "Goes with your hair."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Karl grabs his hand, surprising Nick into speechlessness, and pulls him towards the shed. "Come on, I've got the key already."

Nick is just fascinated by the feeling of Karl's soft hand against his calloused one, so different from his own. It's warm and comfortable and so distracting that Nick almost trips over a protruding rock as they run to the shed. 

He's sad that Karl lets go of his hand to open the lock, but Nick just takes a moment to compose himself, trying hard to steady his breathing again so they can focus on the task at hand. 

The shed itself is almost comically dusty and obviously has been neglected for what looks like the past decade. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dirt except for the shining silver chain on the ground that they were looking for.

"That was easier than I expected," Nick says as he picks up the chain and slings it over his shoulder. The links dig into his skin but he ignores it with a smile on his face. 

"We have some time to kill..." Karl muses, locking the door behind them. Nick feels significantly dustier but Karl still looks clean and pretty like he always does. 

Nick remembers that he's got the tractor to fix up, and probably the lawnmower as well, but he'd rather hang out with Karl than lay on his back and get grease on his face. "What are you thinking of?"

"Could it be a surprise?"

"Let me just toss this into the truck and say a quick prayer to ask for you not to kill me out here," Nick jokes, hoisting the chain off his shoulder and throwing it into the bed of the truck. 

"I'm not gonna kill you!" Karl laughs. "Why in the world would I do that?"

"I don't know! Maybe I didn't do a good enough job with brushing your horse and now you've decided I shouldn't even get a job on a different ranch."

"I'm not going to kill you." Karl rolls his eyes and once again grabs Nick's hand. "Come on, it's not far."

Karl practically scampers through the woods, Nick struggling to keep up with him. Karl's not particularly muscular, at least compared to Nick, but he's strong when he wants to be and pulls Nick along. 

Eventually, they come to a stop and Karl looks up. Nick follows his gaze and is met with a wooden platform high in the gnarly branches of a juniper tree. A rope with knots leads up to the platform. 

"A treehouse?" 

"Yeah. June and I found it when we were little. Come on, Nick, climb up with me."

Karl shimmies up the rope, again showing up that he's strong when he wants to. Nick follows him, hands calloused enough that the rope burning his palms doesn't bother him anymore. 

The platform is scattered with juniper branches and leaves, so Karl brushes it clean and sits down, hanging his legs over the edge. Nick sits next to him, mirroring his position. 

"See? Not gonna kill you." Karl wraps their hands together again, but it feels different this time, more intimate. 

"You could still push me off."

"I wouldn't get what I want from you, then."

"And what do you want from me?"

"Oh." Karl blushes, squeezing Nick's hand unconsciously tighter. "Well, nothing..."

"No, no, you can tell me."

"No, not yet." Karl looks out across the trees. "What's your middle name?"

Nick raises an eyebrow before answering. "Hayes."

"Nicholas Hayes Lawson. That's a good name."

It rolls off his tongue exactly how Nick imagined it a month ago in the car, but he calms his pounding heart. "What's yours?"

"Theodore."

"Karl Theodore Jacobs. I like that."

"Thanks."

"So, what were you gonna say?"

"Oh. Okay. Ummm..." Karl trails off, glancing over at Nick. Their eyes meet, Nick's hazel ones and Karl's grey-blue. "I just- I really like hanging out with you."

"I like hanging out with you too."

"Nick, I-" Karl takes a deep breath. "I don't want to have a farmhouse."

"Mhm."

"And I don't want to marry a pretty girl and have a bunch of kids."

"Mhm."

"I want to go to the city and be a philanthropist and help people."

"Mhm."

"And I- I want you to come with me."

"What do you mean?" Nick wants to hear him say it.

"Can I show you?"

"Sure."

Karl kisses him. 

Just goes for it, leans into Nick and kisses him. 

Karl tastes like iced tea, Nick is sure he does too. 

"That's what I mean." Karl leans back after a moment, face bright red. "If that makes sense."

"It does make sense." Nick smiles. Their hands are still clasped together. "I would love to come with you."

"Good." Karl giggles. "I ain't hate you, Nick Lawson."

"I ain't hate you either, Karl Jacobs." Nick brings their hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of Karl's. 

Because Karl Jacobs ain't too bad, now that Nick knows he loves him.


End file.
